


Childhood Mates

by koalaboy



Category: Constantine (Comic), Constantine (TV), Constantine: The Hellblazer (Comics)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Self-Harm, Trans Character, Trans!Constantine, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14569359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalaboy/pseuds/koalaboy
Summary: It's always been John and Chas against the world. Or, in this case, the coppers.





	Childhood Mates

Chas takes a puff of the cigarette and passes it to John, trying to suppress a cough. He only smoked because it was cool, but John was already downing just about a pack a week.

"You find out anythin' at the library about this trans thing?"

John shakes his head, the cigarette pursed between his lips as he speaks, "Nah, they had fuck all."

Chas deflates in disappointment for his friend. Maybe soon they'd collect enough coins from the street gutters to pay for an hour on the computers with internet at the library. Then they'd be able to find out some real information.

John had come out as trans to Chas long before the two of them even had a word for it. Chas still slipped up with the pronouns sometimes, but he'd do anything for his best mate, including learning a new name. Bandages bound John's budding breasts flat to his chest and his hair was tucked up in a beanie to make it appear short. His sister had promised to cut it, but she'd been too busy with school to do it yet. 

"You think your dad'll put up a fuss about it?" Chas asks.

John shrugs, "He don't gotta find out, does he?"

Chas agrees with unchallenging silence, watching the rain wash trash down the road. He moves closer to John so he doesn't get wet. John turns his back to Chas for a moment and presses the cigarette to the inside of his wrist to put it out. The pain overwhelms his mind and numbs it at the same time. 

"Fuckin' hell!" Chas smacks John's hand away, angrily stomping out the cigarette butt, "Jesus Christ, John!"

John stares down at the ground, clenching his hands into fists and breathing heavily. The burn hurt. His chest hurt. His head hurt. He just wanted his Mum to hug him and tell him he was going to be okay.

"S'real bad, innit?" Chas mumbles, "Your dad an' all."

John nods, "Yeah. Real bad."

Chas played the fool for John's benefit, but he had seen the nasty bruises with his own eyes and he could quite easily put two and two together.

Chas squints into the rain and can make out the faint outline of a police car pulling up to the curb, "Shit, mate. Copper's here."

John slips the packet of cigarettes into his pocket and pulls his coat over the bulge.

"Fuck off!" he calls out, "We ain't done nothin'!"

"Really?" the officer says, "Because I've had reports of underage boys smoking around here and being a bloody nuisance. That wouldn't be you two, would it?"

Despite the accusation, John's ego multiplies tenfold at the insinuation that he passed for a boy.

Chas folds his arms across his chest, "Nah."

"Then you lads wouldn't mind emptying your pockets, would you?"

"Shit," John grabs Chas by the sleeve of his coat and they book it down the alleyway, the holes in their shoes letting the rain in to wet their socks. 

The officer's name was Darren Carter and he'd been on the force for almost thirty years. He'd picked up Chas and John for loitering and causing a disturbance almost fifteen times now. The most he could do was let the boys stay at the station for a couple of hours and then drive them home. He hated that part - dropping those kids back to their parents was painful. As a father himself, it hurt him to see the condition of their houses. In John's case, the glass alcohol bottles that littered the floor despite his sister's best efforts to clean them up. 

"This is officer Carter," he speaks into his walkie-talkie, "I've got that Constantine kid and Chandler. They've just done a runner, but the alleyway is a dead end. I'll be in with them in a bit. Over."

He pursues the two like a lazy cat who knew his dinner wasn't going anywhere and folds his arms across his chest when he confronts them. Both, scared out of their minds, but ready to defend themselves. Cops in this neighbourhood weren't usually as nice as Carter.

"We didn't do fuck all," John snaps, edging in front of Chas. He didn't want to see his best friend get hurt because of him.

Carter sighs, "Alright. How about I take you lads down to the station, we get you some toast, and then I send you on your way?"

John practically hisses like a cat, "Sorry, don't a pig. No matter how many times you've been alright. Don't owe you nothin'."

Carter considers his options, "Where'd you get the cigarettes from?"

John looks down at the bulge in his pocket. The same pocket which had a hole in it through which the cigarette label could be seen. 

"Me old man," he grumbles.

"Give me those and I'll let you both off," he says, "Your sister must be looking for you."

Chas nudges John in the back, "Do it. S'gettin' cold out, anyway."

John tosses the packet into a puddle at Carter's feet, summoning up all of his fragile teenage ego and might. 

Carter picks up the sopping packet and nods his head. The two scramble past him, pulling their hoods over their heads, which did nothing to stop the dirty rain of Liverpool from soaking them.

"Your sister is gonna bloody kill you for getting wet," Chas wheezes as they run.

John scoffs, "She won't even notice I'm gone. C'mon, we can sneak in through the back."

 

 


End file.
